One day someone is going to tell you to follow your heart. Then you might turn to me because I helped you once. You might ask me what it means. The truth is I’m trying to understand too, so maybe we can work together on this one.

First, of course, we need to know what your heart is. Then what it means to follow. From what I remember, home is where the heart is. And from previous working I know that home is a way from where you began to the place you’re going; your place. You find it by trying to understand; gather those fragments which catch your eye like whispers. Then follow them home; which isn’t a place.

You’re looking at me funny. Is it something about the way I give instructions? The way I play with words? You know sometimes truth is merely the light that shines between the lines of things. Truth is something you let in; a complex task. You look confused. I didn’t mean - should I explain another way? Start with the rules, walk you through definitions, hand in hand, what do you say?

Not convinced? That’s okay, take a look at this picture. See the heart in the corner with the chain around it, held by that small child with soft feet all but floating on the damp ground? He’s moving toward that tree full of snakes. But the ground isn’t damp at all, its cracked and dry and those people with pleading expressions can’t seem to penetrate it. See?

Images like that are old and confusing. Took me a long time to learn how to read them. But you’re young, let’s try something else. I learned this technique from people who study theories of mind. They say most of the mind lurks beyond and beneath, accessible only by way of imagination. Here’s how it works; take a look in this basket. I gathered these things from the bush. When something catches your eye, reach for it - place it here in this space I cleared for you. That’s it, keep going. When you’ve finished I'll help you describe what you’ve made with questions, and I'll repeat your answers back to you. You’ll be amazed how your choices reveal the parts of you that know all along!

You’re smiling now. Are you happy I came? You know I’ve been learning all these things for you to help you on your way. Maybe you remember me from long ago, when I was further away. I remember you. The way you were scared to try new things but tried them anyway, often after much coaxing, how proud you were! And I remember the first time you lost something important. You were so small but that didn’t shrink your grief, only your capacity to hold it all. I was certain you’d be crushed by the weight, so I tried to help. I tried to explain.

Now here we are. What is that you’re holding? I hadn’t noticed your hands before, your feet, they barely touch the ground. Is it food? I can’t see, hold on - let me - where did you find it?

You know, I heard a story the other day, a good story, about a snake that guards something precious. The snake is so good at guarding the precious thing that no one ever sees it, not even the snake. Then one day someone visits and tells the snake to follow his heart. But the snake doesn’t know what that means. He starts looking everywhere but he can’t seem to find it.